You Again
by PJOteens
Summary: A year after graduating from Hogwarts, Hermione returns to England after a year abroad to find a nasty surprise. Devastated, she slowly begins to fall back into the old rhythm of her life… Until a certain someone crashes back into it. And this time, Draco Malfoy will make sure his intentions are known. (Dramione!)


I felt my eyelids go heavy as the plane bucked to and fro, and I clutched the armrests of my seat. It had been years since I'd traveled so much by plane, and although I always knew my destination that lay ahead was going to be worth the frightening journey, I still kept my eyes trained on the barf bag dangling limply from the seat pocket at all times.

"Come on, Hermione," I muttered to myself under my breath. "You've been face to face with a Peruvian Vipertooth and Swooping Evils. A little turbulence shouldn't scare you." The plane seemed to kick back, and I felt my heart skip a few beats. How embarrassing.

I peeked up at the people sitting next to me, occupying seats where, in my earliest memories of plane rides, my parents would have been—my father, his nose buried in a dental practice book, his straw-colored hair mussed on one side from an earlier doze, and my mother, patting my hand soothingly, her great crown of tight black curls flawlessly dancing with dim blue light. I sighed, resting my head back against my seat, letting my eyes flutter shut as I recalled the way her brown hands danced over mine with such nonchalant affection, lulling me into safe, youthful sleep.

In reality, my head ached, I was probably dehydrated, and I couldn't use magic on the plane for fear of permanently scarring half of the people onboard. I'd already had an incident in Romania, and the way Dean Thomas had scowled at me while dousing the flames of at least a dozen forest fires had been enough to wean me from using magic for a good week.

"This is your captain speaking," came a crackly voice over the intercom. I sighed, tuning out the rest of the message. We had fifteen minutes until landing. I bit my lower lip, feeling a little sad for some strange reason. Although my traveling days had come to a close for the meantime, it didn't mean the spirit of adventure had departed from my life forever. Ronald Weasley—my longtime boyfriend—would be waiting for me at home, and of course, he loved adventures! Sure, maybe he preferred to stay in bed some days, but didn't everyone?

Memories of Ron filled my memory and I felt myself smiling like an idiot. His spatter of dark orange freckles; gorgeous, floppy, fiery hair; his lithe figure made me giggle a little. The turbulence of the plane was forgotten. During my travels, I had little time to think about anything other than my intensive study of the treatment of magical creatures and beings. My field notes were not covered in those schoolgirl doodles from my Hogwarts days, but rather with detailed assessments and inquiries. Now that my year of discovery was ending, I had time to think about other things—namely, Ron.

I hadn't seen him for a while. The last I'd been face to face with him was when his eyebrows were nearly bleached blonde from the sun the summer after our seventh year at Hogwarts. He'd had a pretty nasty sunburn across his nose, which turned his cheeks the same shade as his hundreds of freckles. I smiled, remembering how his peeling nose felt when he kissed me goodbye. Sure, I'd gotten many postcards from Mrs. Weasley and all the kids, but no contact otherwise with any of them—except that one weird time I saw Charlie and Fleur in Romania… What was up with Romania?

The plane hit the ground with a jolt, and I jumped up in my seat, feeling myself sweat profusely. How could people remain calm when it felt like the contraption was about to tear itself apart? I squeezed my eyes shut again and muttered, "You're the greatest witch of your time, you're the greatest witch of your time" until the plane squeaked to a slow crawl.

I quickly made my way off the plane, promptly collected my one trunk from baggage claim, and then scrambled off into the night. Hidden behind a taxi cab booth, I quickly withdrew my familiar, sleek wand and apparated into London.

In less than a second, I felt my feet meet the ground sharply, and I peered around to find that I was in my own neighborhood. My flat lay just ahead of me, most of the lights shut off except for one—my living room. I giggled to myself, shaking my notoriously messy head of brown curls. Ron was waiting up for me, then. Peeking around to make sure not a muggle was in sight, I apparated again to the doorway of my apartment.

I pulled out my key, rolling my eyes at the mundane rules Ron and I had set for our life in an apartment. _Don't apparate directly inside the apartment. The windows may be open, muggles might see, I may be indecent, blah blah blah…._ I pushed the key into the lock, and to my surprise, the door creaked open. Huh. It was never unlocked. I stepped inside, my brows furrowed, inspecting the well-lit living room. Everything was in order… Except for an alien object on the floor. I felt fear fill my lungs as I stepped forward, my wand raised as I drew closer. It was a small device—a pearl-looking stone with a sharp back, like a pin. Not Ron's. Not Ron's at all. I drew in a sharp breath. It couldn't be an old fanatic of the Dark Lord…? Had they found us?

" _Quietus,"_ I whispered, and my footsteps and movements were instantly silenced. I moved toward the bedroom to the right of the room very carefully, my eyes darting around as my heart beat louder and louder. I drew to the door, pressing my ear against it, and hear nothing. For a moment, my breathing relaxed, because I thought perhaps Ron was out. But then I heard it—faintly at first, but then very clearly. The sounds of a small struggle, and then soft moans of pain. Oh, my God.

I swung the door open, my hair flying into my face, and leapt into the room.

" _Petrificus Totalus!"_ I cried, and once I realized there was no movement, I proceeded. " _Lumos."_ A great light grew from the tip of my wand, illuminating the room so fully it seemed as if it were day.

And there, sprawled out before me was Ron. Naked. In bed. With someone I didn't even recognize.

I felt my face grow red hot as I realized what had happened. The pin on the ground had been a large earring—one belonging to a girl Ron had been _sleeping with._

"What… the…" I said, feeling my chest concave. At first, rage surged through my veins and I felt my wand pulse dangerously with a new kind of power. Then the rage melted to a feeling of betrayal, and then, slowly, immense sadness. "Ron," I said, my voice heavy, and I looked at his eyes, which were wide and darting back and forth between me and the other woman. I didn't even look at her. She wasn't a muggle—I knew that for sure just by sensing her presence in the room—but I didn't dare look closely to see if I recognized her even a little bit.

I reversed the spell with a reluctant flick of my wand. Ron tumbled off the bed and shot up like a rocket, his handsome face wrought with alarm and regret.

"Hermione!" he shrieked in a voice much higher than the one I remembered. "I can explain… Oh, bloody hell, Hermione, lower your wand…!" He flicked on the lights, and I flinched.

"Shut up, Ron," I hissed, storming over to him. My long jacket fluttered in the cramped room. "You can explain? Okay, then. Explain." I folded my arms across my chest, rage filling me again.

"This isn't what it looks like," Ron offered, his face growing pale. I intensified my glare and he shrunk.

"I think it's exactly what it bloody looks like." I threw my hand out towards the bed. "What the hell is wrong with you? I come home to see you, and _this_ is what I come back to? What were all those letters? Were you with _her_ this whole time? Who was waiting for me, Ron?!" I was almost shrieking now, my fists balled tightly around my wand and jacket.

"Yeah, _who_ was waiting for you, Hermione?!" Ron screamed back, his pale face going bright red. "How about you, being gone for a year, without a single visit or call or _anything!_ A few bloody letters to my mother? Well, gee, Hermione, that's swell! Maybe it's because you didn't care! You can't just leave me here and expect everything to be okay when you get back!"

My mouth fell open. Was he bloody joking?

"Ronald Weasley. Are you trying to justify what I just walked into?" Ron croaked something unintelligible as his confidence fell away.

"It was a mistake," he babbled, sinking onto the bed. "I was waiting. I was. It was just… A moment of weakness." My nostrils flared as I shook my head.

"Get out," I said lowly.

"What?" said Ron, raising his head from his hands. I pointed my wand at the woman and unpetrified her, and she tumbled off the bed as well with an annoying squeak.

"You. Heard. Me. And take the bloody girl with you, too." Ron spluttered, rising, and I pointed my wand threateningly at him. He backed up onto the bed again. "This is my apartment. Get out. Or would you like to challenge _the_ _greatest witch of our time?"_

Ron winced visibly, paled, and then leapt up and grabbed the articles of clothing that were strewn across the floor. The unfamiliar woman had already fled out of the apartment fully naked, whimpering.

"Hermione," Ron pleaded, looking absolutely and disgustingly pathetic in a thin robe he had thrown on. His floppy red hair—something I had delighted in seeing fall into his warm eyes—now seemed dull and ugly. He stood, shaking, at the foot of what once was our bed, his tall, gangly form small and unappealing.

"Shut up." I raised my wand again. "And get out." He opened his mouth, shut it, and then walked out of the room. I heard the door to the apartment click shut, and the magical sliding of a bolt from the outside. He was gone.

All the rage that had been coursing through my veins vanished as the full weight of the situation crashed down on top of me. My best friend, my partner, and the one rock that had kept me tethered to my home had betrayed me.

Sobs wracked my body as my knees gave out and I collapsed onto the bed we had once shared, forcing the memory of the way our bodies had folded together so perfectly in peaceful rest out of my head. He was gone. It was his fault. And suddenly, I felt what it was to be truly and insufferably alone.

 **A/N: Hey guys! Ahhhh! It's so good to be back! Please review if you like this first chapter (poor Hermione), and there'll be more to come soon! I haven't written anything about the HP series so far, so I'm exciting to begin! This will be a DRAMIONE fic, and the little shit (Draco) will make an appearance soon!**

 **Anyways, like I said, please review/follow/favorite if you enjoyed! Who do you hope to see soon in this story? And sorry for making Ron a jerk! Eek!**

 **Find me on Wattpad as babypisces! I have a story already up and another sneak peek of one I'm currently working on!**

 **Much love,**

 **PJO Teens**


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